


The Hostage Heart

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-26
Updated: 2006-02-26
Packaged: 2018-08-15 15:59:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8062789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: "Captain Archer, Malcolm and the rest of Trip's friends on Enterprise want to cheer Trip up after the terrible events of the Xindi attack on Earth."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

"What the..?" Trip broke off and wriggled back from the insides of the fried console, his face flushed and the last of his good humour and temper departing shortly after him. He glowered at Lt Malcolm Reed. The Armoury Officer sat back on his haunches and waited to hand the Chief Engineer another tool. "Spanner, Commander Tucker?"

"That does it!" Trip threw down his wrench and gave up all pretense of working. "I thought you were supposed to be helpin', Lieutenant?"

Lt Reed smiled slightly. His expression annoyingly benign. "I am."

"If that's the best ya could do I suggest you get out and let me get on with my work or I'll be here all night puttin' everythin' right."

"Commander, you'll be here all night WITHOUT my help. Be reasonable."

But Commander Tucker had stuck his head back under the console. Swearing and muttering away he busied himself and tried to ignore the presence of a certain very annoying armoury officer hovering by his shoulder. "Don't ya have work to do?" He complained ignoring the fact that if he was off duty so was Lt Reed. One of the joys of sharing the Alpha Shift. His voice echoing in the confines of the interior of the unit.

Lt Reed was idly sorting out Trip's tool's in descending order across the floor at his feet. Again. He kept mixing everything up which made Trip madder and madder every time he stuck his head out and went to get something. The angrier Trip got, the calmer and more amused the Armoury Officer became. It was as if he was trying to see how many different ways he could wind up the Commander before supper-time. "Well, I'm glad one of us is enjoyin' himself." The Chief Engineer grumbled.

"You're the one who wanted to repair the communication's console for Hoshi."

"Correction, Lieutenant. *Captain Archer* was the one who wanted me to repair the communication's console for Hoshi. Despite the fact that I went off duty over three hours ago. Despite the fact that I have a perfectly good engineering team who could'a done it just as easily as I could."

Lt Reed raised his eyebrows mildly. "Is that why you insist on doing nearly all the repairs on this ship yourself? Running yourself ragged going from pillar to post as if you're on a mission from God?"

Lt Reed waited a moment and when he got no response ducked his head down and resumed sorting Trip's tools out into irregular groupings this time. His eyes averted. "On movie night." Grumbled Trip by way of insult being added to injury.

The Lieutenant looked up innocently. "Oh? Is it movie night?"

Trip could feel his teeth grinding. Blood boiling in his ears. Wondering if he killed the Lieutentant how long he could get away with hiding the body before anyone noticed. "Ya know damn well it is!"

They fell into a sullen silence. Lt Reed was pretty sure that Trip was getting into a funk by now though he did hold his temper longer than the Lieutenant had expected him to. Malcolm had to keep his face averted so that his friend would not see him smirking. Carefully he kept his voice flat, as neutral and innocent sounding as possible. "Why, what's showing?"

"As of this moment everythin' but one Chief Engineer and one very annoyin' an' aggravatin' Armoury Officer. I'm thinkin' they might miss the Engineer but nobody'd miss that irritatingly smug Lieutenant."

"I think I'm offended, Commander. I offer to give up my free time to help you and if this is the thanks I get..." He started to get up.

Malcolm put just enough hurt into his voice to fool the Commander. Almost immediately Trip began apologising. It was quite funny actually. For all of two minutes. Trip's muffled voice making conciliatory noises as the Engineer tried to calm down and get back to the task before him. "I'm sorry, Malcolm. I shouldn't be takin' it out on ya."

"Taking what out on me?"

Another mumble was lost in the console as he disappeared beneath it. Lt Reed heard more tinkering, a little bit of swearing and sparking as hot wires crossed. He was not sure but he thought Trip sounded upset. It was hard to tell with his voice so badly muffled. "Nothin', just my bad temper. Ignore me."

The usually sunny Engineer at last wriggled out from under the console and paused on his back. His face was grimey and there were singe marks in his hair which was sticking up all over the place. His work overall was covered in bits of grease and oil which Lt Reed would swear had landed on him from clean fresh air. Nowhere on all the ship except the engine itself could it be this mucky. But the Chief Engineer had to go and prove him wrong. It did however make for a nice bit of light entertainment. Only when Trip sat up, tossed his tool amongst Malcolm's neatly laid out row, then gave a heavy sad little explellation of breath did he realise how tired his friend looked. There were dark circles under his eyes and his face was looking drawn and pinched. Lt Reed felt a twinge of guilt at the deception. Suddenly he was not sure if Captain Archer's idea was worth the pain it might cause his friend. All because they wanted to see him laugh. Make him happy. Pretend the months prior to the Xindi attack on Earth had never happened. 'Oh yeah, and while we're at it shall we pretend Lizzie never died?' What the hell had he been thinking going along with this stupid idea? Trip was his friend not a science project. Not some lab rat they could play around with. His feelings were not something for the amusement of others. He felt a sudden deep surge of shame.

Trip noticed his darkening mood. Malcolm was surprised to find the Commander now sitting next to him, shoulder to shoulder. The man's inate good nature rising back to the surface despite the fact that he obviously felt like shit. "Hey, Malcolm? What's up? Perhaps I can help?"

His words almost made Malcolm cry. He turned his head away for a second. Seldom had he ever felt less worthy of that friendship than now. Even though his reasons for going along with the Captain's ruse had been with the best of intentions. He knew how offended and hurt he would feel if someone had done this to him. Yet here was Trip, even as miserable and hurt as he felt still wanting to reach out and help someone else. Even someone as unworthy as he was. God. Why did he let the Captain talk him into this hairbrained idea? "Nothing is wrong, Trip."

"Then what is it? Was it somethin' I said or everythin' I said?"

Malcolm laughed a little at the weak joke but it soon died away taking a little of the awkwardness away with it. "No. I had no right to speak to you like that. It was uncalled for."

"It's okay, I know ya didn't mean it."

He shot him a look. "How do you know that? Maybe I'm just a good liar."

Trip guffawed softly. A quick fleeting thing that made Malcolm's heart ache. A memory of the carefree Trip they were in danger of losing forever. "'Cause you're my friend an' while I don't pretend to understand everythin' about ya I know you're an honourable man. Just 'cause I don't feel too happy right now gives me no right to throw that friendship back in your face."

Lt Reed stared at him. For all the southerner's seemingly slap dash ways he was still the finest friend Malcolm Reed had ever had. "Do you want to talk about it." He asked quietly.

Trip shook his head, head hanging down. Unable to look his friend in the eye. "Can't."

"I wish I could do or say something..."

"Nothin' to do or say." He lifted his head and wiped the start of tears from his eyes. "Malcolm, can I ask ya somethin'? Somethin' kind'a per's'nal?"

The Armoury Officer nodded.

"How would you have coped if it had been Maddy?"

All the air huffed out of Lt Reed's lungs. Maddy. Oh God. Christ in Heaven. Maddy! He wanted to be able to tell Trip he would have straightened his shoulders, attended the memorial service and given her the best send off he could then he would have gone right back out and done his job. The way she would have expected him to. No going off the rails, no drowning his sorrows, no raging at the enemy and ranting at his friends. Trip had lashed out figuratively and physically in his pain. Not to inflict it on others but because he had no coping mechanism for a grief that threatened to overwhelm him. Had no armour against pain this deep. Lt Reed bit back the threat of trears. Maddy. If it had been Maddy not Lizzie he doubted he would have fared any better than Trip. No matter what his friends might think he was not made of stone. A stiff upper lip was no sop for a broken heart. He patted Trip awkwardly on the shoulder. "I understand, Trip, and for what it's worth--I think you're handling this better than I would have done."

Trip snorted. "That's a load of bullshit, Malcolm, and we both know it!"

Trip started to get up but Malcolm put a hand out and caught his sleeve, tugging until the Commander gave up and sank back on the floor next to him. "No, Trip, it's not actually." His voice was very quiet, almost hushed. "Maddy means the whole world to me. All my rotten, stinking life I grew up being made to feel inferior. Never able to measure up to my father's expectations. Not good enough. Man enough. Reed enough, if you can believe it? Reeds were navy. Not a job or occupation but a blood group. Ran in their veins since the Battle of Traffalgar. I was the first to break with tradition and join Starfleet. You'd have thought I was offering to serve aboard a Klingon Bird of Prey."

The Commander's eyes had gone round. "What happened?"

"My father threw an almighty fit. I've never seen him so mad in my life." Malcolm gave a little half smile, lost for a moment in the memory. "I was abso-friggin-lutely terrified! Scared the balls off me."

At his friend's ashen face, Malcolm's smile widened into a huge grin.

"Best sodding day of my entire fucked up life if you must know."

"Malcolm!" Trip knew Malcolm could swear along with the best of them he just was not used to the casual way in which he injected cuss words into the conversation. Like limpet mines set to go off for the maximum surprise on contact. Typical armoury officer. Always thinking in terms of ordnance.

For a moment they just sat in companionable silence then Malcolm looked at Trip. "You finished?"

Trip nodded. "Yep. Just give me a minute to get the casing back on. Guess we're too late for the movie?"

"I'm afraid so, but let's go and get washed and changed then see what chef's left us to eat."

A little smile bobbed back at him. "Ya got a deal."

Half an hour later Malcolm waited outside Trip's quarters. As soon as he appeared they made their way to the mess hall. Funnily enough now they could not seem to get a conversation going let alone keep it going so they lapsed into silence, an unknown tension building unobtrusively between them, each busy with his own thoughts. When they approached the mess hall Malcolm made sure he dropped back a half step as they stepped through the door. Trip was about to turn his head to find out where Malcolm was going when the noise hit him. Turning his head in shock he was suddenly festooned with party favours, ribbons, balloons, banners and streamers. Music blared out from not so well hidden speakers, the tables had been pushed all the way around the mess hall and everyone was drinking a kind of fruit punch that Dr Phlox had made (with built in hangover cure he assured them).

Trip stood aghast with his mouth hanging over, oblivious to the happy yelling of Hoshi Sato as she wished him the best (what for?) then kissed his cheek and ran off to drag Travis up on to the dance floor. Everybody was wishing him well, shaking his hand, pounding his back and making his head spin. He frowned when Jonathan Archer popped up like a party favour and stuck a glass of punch in his hands. "Come on, Commander, drink up and..."

Everyone in the room stopped talking as Captain Archer raised his glass, then all together they yelled out "...AND THAT'S AN ORDER!"

Stunned he stared. Lt Reed felt they were going too fast for Trip. He whispered urgently in Travis's ear, he told Hoshi, then the pair of them dragged a half drunken Captain to one side and advised him. He sobered slightly and weaved back towards Trip, who looked like he was judging the distance to the exit and how quickly he could make it before anyone tried to stop him. "Trip, I should have explained."

"That's okay, you got my birthday wrong. Happens to me all the time, Jon, I'll just go an'..."

Several hands reached out and dragged him back, Lt Reed's included. He managed to get Trip to pay attention. "Listen carefully to what the Captain has to say to you, Trip. He has a present for you. Well, not from him or us exactly..."

"Let me tell him." Slurrred the Captain.

Puzzled Trip frowned at him. "Tell me what?"

Captain Archer waved to Rostov who was standing by the doors, ready to douse the lights and put on the newsfeed. Only now did Trip notice the screen set up at a decidedly crooked angle on one of the serving hatches. The surface was cold and now as the lights began to dip Trip felt his heart speeding up with a sudden terrible sense of dread. As if knowing what was going through his friend's mind, Lt Reed put an arm around his shoulder to steady him. "Relax Trip, it's going to be hard for you but believe me it will be worth it. Trust us. Trust the Captain and the rest of us not to do anything that would hurt you. Okay?"

"Okay Malcolm, now you're really scaring me."

"No need, my friend. Sssh, I think the Captain's ready to explain."

And he was. "I'm sorry to spring this on you like this Trip but as soon as we heard the news we wanted to do something spectacular. Something to make up for the hardship and heartache. The one thing that would mean a damn to you out here." He paused to clear his throat. "The Xindi attack on Earth is the single most terrible act of terrorism imaginable in the History of Mankind, and we have done some pretty terrible things to each other during that time. We've been getting newsfeeds and updates ever since it happened, Trip..."

Trip was crying now, though he made no sound. Everybody was crowded round wanting to comfort him by patting his arm, touching his shoulder, or just standing close by in case they were needed. No one was laughing and joking now, quite a few people weeping with emotion.

"Admiral Forest gave us the news just under five hours ago..."

Trip blinked. "What news?" His heart froze thinking there had been another attack. 'Oh God, Oh God, don't let them strike again. Oh God let mama be safe!'

"First estimates were slightly high, the true figure is nearer six and a half billion, not that that is the real point of this update." He cleared his throat a little more slowly now, getting to the crux of the matter, his emotion making him a little shaky. "It has now been CONFIRMED that Commander Charles Tucker's sister Lizzie was NOT killed in the Xindi attack on Earth. I repeat Trip, Lizzie is NOT dead!"

Silence. Utter. Total. Profound. So absolute it hurt his ears. He was unaware of colour, movement, sound, taste, touch. Everything had slipped away from him in a numb dissociation from reality. It took forever to feel the hands that touched him, the arms that rocked him, the lips that kissed his cheek, tears on his face that fell from dozens of eyes, all weeping for joy and love of him. He did not think his heart could take it. Held hostage for so long to the hatred that burned for the Xindi. The slaughter of all those lives including one that he could never replace in a dozen lifetimes. Now. To hear she was safe. Not dead at all was almost too much.

Dr Phlox hurried to help him sit. Fussing over him like an anxious hen over an injured chick. He knew the doctor was babbling something but the words were all under water. All movements in sluggish slow motion like the blood struggling to pump around the walls of his heart. Then he felt a familiar voice next to his ear. Malcolm. Out of all the chaos that voice of calm reason was his lifeline. He thought he could hear T'Pol too but Malcolm's voice was stronger. He clung to it for grim death and let his friend lead him back out of the shock, out of the depths of his dispair, out through the narrow walls of hatred and bigotry to the dazzling impossible light of renewed hope. But was it true? Or was his dreaming mind mocking him with nightmares that would never end? To torture him anew with each bereft awakening. Then the impossible was made flesh.

The door opened a second time. Lighter steps trotted then ran full pelt until his arms were full with a figure from his waking visions, a memory made flesh. A ghost that lived and breathed and knew his name. He cried, she wept. The Enterprise crew went mad--cheering, whistling, crying, singing, raising their glasses and hugging each other as if this were the very last day of the world. Sound staggered back to him in a drunken cacophony of emotions. Gentle lips were plastering his face with kisses, soft hands cradling his bruised cheeks and holding his weary head up so he could look at her. Feast on a sight that had famished him for too long. When he spoke his voice was broken, the tinkle of glass vowels and constonants chinking together as he forced the ragged words past his disbelieving lips. "Lizzie? Oh God, Lizzie is that YOU???"

Once he began to believe. Could feel that she was a solid three-dimensional human being like the rest of them, he let everything else go. His anger. His hate. His terrible dark dispair. Life began to feel sweet again. As Lizzie was sweet again. Then Trip was dragging her and hugging her and introducing her to every damn soul he could find. Captain Jonathan Archer had hugged and kissed Lizzie first, claiming that right as Captain. Lizzie laughed and kissed him affectionately then was dragged off by Trip to go and meet *his Vulcan*. He hissed in her ear, praying she would behave for him. Just this once. T'Pol was standing next to Lt Anna Hess, Toby Weiss and Danny and what looked like half of Trip's beta and alpha shifts. He paused, momentarily sidetracked. "If you're all here who's lookin' after my engines?"

Sub-Commander T'Pol raised a regal eyebrow. Lizzie watched the interplay with interest. She had to admit the woman had enviable control. Not just of her eyebrows but also her men. One look at her brother told her he was as good as lost. Of course the fun part was that he did not know it yet. She met T'Pol's eyes. A tiny shimmer passed between them. Understanding. Poor Trip. Lucky T'Pol. Mischievous Lizzie. Oh yes. This was definitely a good day to return from the dead. She turned to look at her brother, his face all but glowing as he smiled from her to the Vulcan holding court by the punch bowl.

"Lizzie," He took a deep breath and for a moment the universe ground to a complete halt. The stars froze mid-flicker. The planets paused in their orbits. The solar winds hung in suspension. Immobile as if inert, waiting. He stared at T'Pol. Those deep liquid brown eyes swallowing him whole, gathering him into her and filling him with a want and need that was almost hypnotic. Belately he realised she had spoken. With an effort he tried to cover up the fact that he had not heard a single word she had said. "I want ya to meet Sub-Commander T'Pol of Vulcan, she's the Science and First Officer aboard Enterprise. T'Pol? I'd like to introduce ya to my sister, Lizzie."

The two women greeted each other with mutual regard. The rest of the evening passed in a glittering whirl. Trip did not care. Lizzie was alive and for the first time since the attack on Earth, Trip was glad to be alive too. He watched Captain Archer take Lizzie up on to the dance floor, not quite sure which one of them was holding the other up. Trip laughed, heart happy and carefree. T'Pol turned and watched his pleasure, his joy filling her heart with unspoken promises and gifts that were beyond price even on Vulcan. He turned his head and realised she had been watching him. Leaning in he whispered for her sensitive ears only. "See somethin' ya like, darlin'?"

Maybe it was the music? The wine? The sudden reprieve from unaccepatable loss? Dr Phlox's miracle punch? Or even Malcolm's terrible stiff jokes? Whatever it was the edges of T'Pol's face seemed to soften when she looked at him. Her eyes smiling in their depths for him and him alone. For the second time that night sound deserted him. Slowly he leaned closer then dropped a kiss upon her lips, so soft, so gentle, so tender that the merest stir of her head would dislodge it. He drank her in, his eyes full of her. Wonder settled deep in his heart when she made no move to pull back. A tiny smile graced his lips as they parted. He waited and T'Pol parted hers. Just a tiny fraction. Trip kissed her a second time, his tongue lightly brushing between her lips, gratified when the lips opened and he could kiss her properly. Stunned when she took the breath out of his lungs by kissing him back. So swift, so deep. Brief. Passionate. Unexpected. He blinked as they surfaced, her head drew back, her eyes gazing at him with unruffled calm. Trip smiled and watched Lt Reed claim her in a dance. A tap on his shoulder made him turn then there was Lizzie, laughing brightly and prodding him into taking her up on the dance floor. The fast steps had them both breathless and laughing in minutes then skillfully Lizzie turned them in a tight arc and swapped partners.

Trip was still laughing when he suddenly blinked, T'Pol staring back at him across their joined hands. He waited for her reaction as he drew her to the end of the dance then rested light hands round her trim waist. He tilted his head at her. "Happy T'Pol?"

She did not answer right away. It was an emotional question. No doubt the human was teasing her again but somehow she thought not. He looked so full of content. His face so open and honest. A man she could trust. So peaceful. All the anger and negativity that he had been storing up towards the Xindi had been exocised by that one beloved ghost. It made T'Pol inwardly shudder to think how close she had come to losing him. And just how dear to her he was. She could give him her answer now. Though the road ahead would not be without problems it would not be boring.

"Yes." Said T'Pol of Vulcan simply. She watched the beautiful play of ambient light set fire to the shadows of his eyes. His sister's reflected glory shining in their depths where she would be forever safe as she whirled by in the dance. She wondered if he shone likewise in her eyes. A reflection of her soul. If he did may Surak help her to keep him safe. All the days of their lives. "Yes," Repeated T'Pol softly. For his human ears alone. "I am happy now."


End file.
